


OF KINGS AND THIEVES

by efmrider



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/F, Skyrim Civil War, Thieves Guild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-17 01:30:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11841171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/efmrider/pseuds/efmrider
Summary: The entire story is now posted on my website, noted below.  Please go there and leave a comment if you like!  Part Two is in the works--but it will probably take several months to finish.  (Today's Date:  11/26/2017)This story for mature readers only.  It contains Explicit Sex, Violence, Gore & Strong Language.THIS IS THE FIRST CHAPTER ONLY:  FOR THE REST OF THE STORY, GO TO: https://joyridercom.wordpress.com/If you have not played Skyrim:  There will be Spoilers.  If you have not played Skyrim:  There may be things you won't understand.I do not own any of the rights to the game:  TESV Skyrim, or to any of the music linked here from YouTube.  All rights remain with the creators of the game and the music linked.The Screenshots are mine.Elder Scrolls V:  Skyrim was my first Elder Scrolls game and I fell in love with it the moment I began playing it in 2012.  I’ve never found any other game which offered such a wide choice of role playing opportunities.  Once I discovered mods, the game’s potential became virtually limitless for me.  I never grow tired of it.  I thank Bethesda for creating the game upon which this story is based.REGARDING "OF KINGS & THIEVES"This story, like my game, is heavily modded.  You will note differences in some locations and in some of the armor worn by the soldiers and guards.  Stables have been modified to more accurately fit my perception of what stables in such a society would be like.  Guards wear open faced helmets, so their expressions can be seen.  Additional people have been added to the cities and Jarl’s castles or longhouses.  The great doors of the Palace of the Kings have been combined into a single double door.  It has always bothered me that there were two separate doors.I have extended the abilities of Dawnbreaker a bit to create a more dramatic effect.I’ve done my best to stay within the lore while making all of these changes.  I feel it makes the story much more dramatic and magical.I thank Elizabeth Jackson Hall; artist, modder and friend, for holding the mirror up to my face so I could see all of my mistakes.  Without her ruthless editing and helpful suggestions this story would never have been finished.  She provided some of the dialogue.  I also thank her for her mod, “Brynjolf Has Time For You,” which provided much of the inspiration for the Thieves Guild portion of the story.  Be sure to check out her mod on the Steam Workshop.I thank Ilhe for the mod, “Obedient Ulfric” (what irony!) which allowed me to travel in game with the great King and get a feel for his character.  Ulfric is anything but obedient.   Be sure to check out her mod on the Nexus.Finally, I thank my family for (mostly anyway) leaving me alone while I hashed this out.I hope you enjoy the story.  Please leave your comments if you do.  If you don’t—well—there’s no pleasing everyone.Now then, “Once upon a time in a land called Skyrim…”





	OF KINGS AND THIEVES

**Author's Note:**

> The entire story is now posted on my website, noted below. Please go there and leave a comment if you like! Part Two is in the works--but it will probably take several months to finish. (Today's Date: 11/26/2017)
> 
> This story for mature readers only. It contains Explicit Sex, Violence, Gore & Strong Language.  
> THIS IS THE FIRST CHAPTER ONLY: FOR THE REST OF THE STORY, GO TO: https://joyridercom.wordpress.com/
> 
> If you have not played Skyrim: There will be Spoilers. If you have not played Skyrim: There may be things you won't understand.  
> I do not own any of the rights to the game: TESV Skyrim, or to any of the music linked here from YouTube. All rights remain with the creators of the game and the music linked.  
> The Screenshots are mine.  
> Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim was my first Elder Scrolls game and I fell in love with it the moment I began playing it in 2012. I’ve never found any other game which offered such a wide choice of role playing opportunities. Once I discovered mods, the game’s potential became virtually limitless for me. I never grow tired of it. I thank Bethesda for creating the game upon which this story is based.  
> REGARDING "OF KINGS & THIEVES"  
> This story, like my game, is heavily modded. You will note differences in some locations and in some of the armor worn by the soldiers and guards. Stables have been modified to more accurately fit my perception of what stables in such a society would be like. Guards wear open faced helmets, so their expressions can be seen. Additional people have been added to the cities and Jarl’s castles or longhouses. The great doors of the Palace of the Kings have been combined into a single double door. It has always bothered me that there were two separate doors.  
> I have extended the abilities of Dawnbreaker a bit to create a more dramatic effect.  
> I’ve done my best to stay within the lore while making all of these changes. I feel it makes the story much more dramatic and magical.  
> I thank Elizabeth Jackson Hall; artist, modder and friend, for holding the mirror up to my face so I could see all of my mistakes. Without her ruthless editing and helpful suggestions this story would never have been finished. She provided some of the dialogue. I also thank her for her mod, “Brynjolf Has Time For You,” which provided much of the inspiration for the Thieves Guild portion of the story. Be sure to check out her mod on the Steam Workshop.  
> I thank Ilhe for the mod, “Obedient Ulfric” (what irony!) which allowed me to travel in game with the great King and get a feel for his character. Ulfric is anything but obedient. Be sure to check out her mod on the Nexus.  
> Finally, I thank my family for (mostly anyway) leaving me alone while I hashed this out.  
> I hope you enjoy the story. Please leave your comments if you do. If you don’t—well—there’s no pleasing everyone.  
> Now then, “Once upon a time in a land called Skyrim…”

Chapter One

Helgen 17 Last Seed, 4E 201

https://youtu.be/ABn1vPwpwug

Reppa held her breath as she squinted through the mist. Stiffening her back and pulling the bowstring to full extension, she prayed that her stomach would not growl and give her away. The deer stood placidly, chewing a mouthful of clover. She had to hit it, she was starving and she only had a few arrows left. She let fly. As she watched, completely still, the sudden sound of a man shouting split the morning silence. The deer leaped forward and the arrow chunked into the trunk of the tree beside where it had been a split second before. Reppa, cursing silently, dropped to her knees and peered through the bushes, trying to identify where the sound had come from. 

Sound was deceptive in the fog, the source might be farther away than she thought, but she was cautious. She’d already dodged several Imperial patrols on her journey down through the Pale Pass from the Jerall Mountains, where her family had made their home before the soldiers had come. Her ma and da were dead. She and her three brothers had gone in different directions, hoping to throw off the pursuit. She’d been very lucky so far.

The sound of wagon wheels, creaking leather harness and metal clanking on metal reached her clearly now, sounding much closer than before. Numerous hooves striking against stone indicated a large party. She clearly heard the words, “Shut up back there!” in a commanding tone. She had no doubt she was hearing Imperial soldiers.

She looked around for the safest escape route, but she could just as easily run right into them as run away. Then suddenly it didn’t matter. A brown leather boot planted itself beside her and a strong hand yanked her up by the back of her thick fur coat.

“Gotcha!” Foul breath accompanied the triumphant shout. 

Reppa planted her feet, ramming her elbow back into the man’s gut and slamming her head back against his face, hoping to break his nose. Nord women are strong and years of hard work chopping wood and hauling water made her a more formidable opponent than the Imperial was expecting. In spite of the thick leather he wore, her elbow made him grunt and stagger and the head butt made his ears ring and split his lip. He threw her to the ground hard. 

“You’ll pay for that, bitch!” He reached for his sword.

Reppa rolled over on to her back and brought both feet up, ramming them hard into his crotch. Unfortunately all she hit was his codpiece. He staggered back a bit and she rolled over to rise to her feet. He recovered quickly and stepped forward to kick her hard in the side. She cried out in pain. 

The wagons rolled into view then and the cavalcade came to a stop to watch the fight. The man at the front, clearly a general by his armor, reined in his horse and turned it toward the two combatants. For Reppa was not done. Her rage was up and she struggled to her feet, breathing deeply, trying to build up enough air for a battle cry. 

The general bellowed, “She’s going to shout! Take her down, damn it!” Several foot soldiers ran to assist their comrade. 

All of the pent up rage she felt at the renegades who had raided her family’s homestead and killed her parents became focused now, rising up through her chest to erupt forth against her enemies. Just before she released, the first soldier rammed her from the side and they both hit the ground. The air in her lungs left her and she struggled to draw in a breath, feeling as if she were suffocating. The soldier pushed himself up, straddling her, and lifted his arm. The last thing she remembered was his fist coming down toward her face. She felt pain explode in her jaw and then her vision turned red and faded to black.



Lord Ulfric Stormcloak glared at the soldiers who trussed up the young woman and threw her into the back of the cart like a sack of flour. They shoved a gag into her mouth, similar to the one he wore, to keep her from trying to shout again. His Shout of course was far more deadly, the Thu’um of the Ancient Tongues. Hers was only the native Nord battle cry--it could be nothing else. Still, he was proud of her. It took years of practice to become proficient in the battle cry and the normal Nord female would never have devoted the time to it. Had she succeeded, the outcome might have been very different. She was a true daughter of Skyrim.

Her face was covered with dirt and scratches and blood. Her body was shapeless under the thick furs she wore. He would not have looked at her twice if he passed her on the street, for she was no great beauty—at least, not like this. The wagon lurched into motion again and he pressed his boot as gently as he could against her head, to brace it against impact with the floor of the cart as it bounced and rocked on the uneven stones of the road. She moaned slightly, but did not awaken.

The soldiers and the two wagons filled with prisoners rolled on for a couple more miles, until he could smell wood smoke and hear the sounds of a settlement. Ulfric looked up to see the open gates of an Imperial fort. He recognized it as Helgen. It stood at the junction of three roads, one coming down from the Jeralls, headed south to Whiterun, one leading west to Falkreath and one which curved through mountains leading east toward Ivarstead and the Rift.

A soldier on the parapet over the gate called down. “General Tullius, Sir! The Headsman is waiting!”

“Good! Let’s get this over with!” responded the General. 

Just so. There would be no trial, no quarter, no chance for another escape. He would watch as his own people and this poor innocent woman at his feet were beheaded, no doubt. Then they would take his head as well. It was no less than he expected. He felt sure however, that the war would go on in his name. His death would not be in vain.

Once again he looked down at the woman. Her eyes opened and she stared back at him. He grunted in surprise. For instead of the normal blue or brown eyes of a Nord, she possessed eyes that were a clear bright green—the same green that spread across the tundra in spring, the color of the tundra moss. He felt as if he was gazing into a looking glass, for they were lit from within by an anger which matched his own. Those eyes, should he live, he would never forget. 



https://youtu.be/IRY93xEjSfw  
Reppa stood watching as Tullius passed sentence on Lord Stormcloak. The judgment revealed what she had not known, that he was the leader of the rebellion in Skyrim. She already knew he was a Jarl. Even in her isolated mountain home they did receive some news of the outside world. He was a handsome man, with a golden head of hair sweeping back from his face. Two small braids hung from either side of that leonine mane. His strong jaw was clenched in fury. She was too far away to see his eyes now, but in the cart she had seen that they were a piercing green, a shade lighter than her own. She’d been surprised, for she had never seen anyone else with green eyes except herself.

The block stood in front of her and the headsman stood waiting patiently, holding his giant, bloodstained axe. The reality of what was about to happen to her was beginning to sink in, but somehow it did not fill her with fear. The horror of what she had already endured had numbed her. Her parents were dead, her brothers gone. She was alone. Now there was only a relief that soon it would be all over. She would join her parents in Sovngarde and the pain would end. She felt only hatred for the soldiers. She stood tall, her head held high, and awaited her turn.

A distant roar split the morning silence. Startled, she lifted her head and looked around, blinking in the bright sunlight which was beginning to cut through the mist. One of the soldiers asked, “What was that?”

“It’s nothing, get on with it,” said Tullius.

The first man was shoved down on his knees before the block and the Captain pushed him forward with a steel clad boot to place his head across it. The headsman lifted his axe and brought it down in a great arc. Reppa watched as blood soaked the block and the ground and his head rolled into the crate set ready for the purpose. 

Ulfric watched her out of the corner of his eye. She didn’t flinch. He could see the hatred in her green eyes. Then they were dragging her forward. The Captain repeated the process, shoving her down and placing her boot in the middle of her back to force her head onto the blood soaked block. She did not cower or show any fear.

The roar sounded again. A shadow passed over them. Reppa turned her head sideways, trying to see. Behind the headsman a giant black shape appeared—like something out of a nightmare. Reppa’s eyes opened wide in shock and surprise. The headsman lifted his axe.

Huge black wings spread wide as the beast landed on top of the tower and lowered to wrap around the rounded sides. As it landed, the ground shook and the headsman fell forward. 

The creature’s huge wedge shaped head turned, like a bird’s head when it turned one eye to examine an insect on the ground. 

“Dragon!” a woman’s voice cried out. Tullius began to shout for the battle mages.

 

The dragon’s great maw opened and it Shouted—an immense, deafening sound. Immediately the skies darkened and fire and flaming stone began to drop from above. An enormous ball of flame impacted right next to her. She rolled in the opposite direction and felt something under her. It was the headsman’s axe. The headsman was struggling to rise and lift it at the same time. She kicked him in the face and angled herself to run her bindings over the sharp edge. They came loose, but Reppa knew from the pain that she’d cut into her skin as well. 

Ulfric ran toward her. He watched as she kicked headsman again and snatched the dagger from his belt. Blood began to seep from under his hood and he knew she had broken his nose. 

She rose to her feet and pulled the gag from her mouth. She turned her head toward him as he reached her and then sidestepped to reach behind him and slash at his bonds. He felt his hands come loose from the straps. Then he was yanking his own gag from his mouth. He took her by the arm. 

“Come! Into the tower!” They ran, dodging the stones and flame which continued to fall. Someone slammed the door behind them as they reached the tower’s temporary safety.

“Jarl Ulfric! What was that thing?!” asked one of the soldiers who had reached the tower before them. Ulfric recognized him as Ralof. “Could it be a dragon from the legends?”

“Legends don’t burn down villages! We can’t stay here! We need to move!” 

A pounding sounded on the door. Someone was trying to get in. He looked around for anything he could use as a weapon. 

“Here,” said the woman, offering him the dagger. He accepted it with a grim smile. 

Above them, at the first landing of the stairs which ran up through the tower, the wall imploded and the dragon’s great head appeared. He belched flame. Stones began to fall from the ceiling. 

“The tower is coming down!” cried the woman. “We need to go!”

https://youtu.be/Le4B9T12zbs?list=RDQMAIsgC9vKln0

Ulfric turned and yanked the door open, plunging the dagger into the chest of the Imperial soldier there—who had only been seeking refuge. He relieved the man of his sword and tossed the dagger back to the woman, who caught it deftly by the haft. Then to his amazement she took off running. He watched as she ran back to the block and hefted the headsman’s heavy axe. 

He ran after her. She met him halfway, offering the axe to him. 

“The gate will be locked against us! We can use this to smash it!”

Grinning, he handed her the sword and took the axe. Together they ran through the village toward the gate, followed by the two soldiers from the tower and dodging flaming debris and panicked men and women. Tullius was shouting orders which no one was listening to. Mages were throwing fireballs and the archers fired from the walls. 

The dragon’s shadow slid across the ground in front of him and he looked up to see it snatch an archer from the walls. The man arced upward; then started the deadly plunge toward the ground below. 

As they approached the gate, the dragon landed directly in front of them, blocking their way. The woman stood directly in front of it, with Ulfric right behind her. The huge mouth began to open. She whirled and yanked the axe from his hands, then turned and stepped forward so close that she could have touched the dragon’s muzzle. She shoved the heavy weapon into its mouth, wedging it between the giant teeth. Ulfric stared in amazement, marveling at her courage and ingenuity.

The creature roared, shaking its head, trying to remove the obstruction. She ran for the arched entrance into the yard before the keep. Ulfric and the others ran after her, passing through the archway just as the dragon snapped the axe in two and sent a column of flame after them. Then it lifted into the air again.

She was running for a breach in the far wall. The dragon appeared again, hovering over her. She turned and ran back for the keep as he sprayed the ground with flame. The back of her coat caught fire. She shrugged out of it, never missing a stride. He leaped from the wall and landed in front of her. The force of the landing knocked all of them from their feet. Ulfric scrambled up just in time to see the beast stretch its neck toward her and snap at her. She rolled away. 

He ran toward the dragon, Shouting. “FUS RO DAH!”

The beast staggered. While he was recovering, he yanked her to her feet.

“Into the keep!” he bellowed. All of them ran. Ulfric steadied Reppa as she struggled to keep up, for she was winded. The soldiers pushed the doors open and the four of them burst through, nearly falling over each other in their haste. 

Reppa sank to the floor, gasping for air. Ulfric squatted in front of her. 

“Are you alright?” 

She nodded, lifting a hand to push the hair back from her eyes. Her blond plait was coming lose. He could see that blood was seeping from a nasty cut on her wrist. 

“Imperials!” hissed Ralof. 

Ulfric looked up, now hearing the approach of steel clad boots on the stone floor. He rose, and Ralof tossed him an axe he had taken from the dead man—one of their own, lying on the far side of the circular room. He caught it and they took positions on either side of the trellis gate which barred the way into the next chamber. Glancing back at the woman, he saw her rise and step back into the anteroom so that she would be out of sight. 

The trellis lifted and the Imperial bitch who had been directing the execution stepped through. Ulfric swung the axe at her neck with such strength that her head left her shoulders with one blow. She collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. Ralof and the other man, whose name he could not remember, ran the man behind her through with the weapons they’d scrounged as they had run through the village. 

“See if you can get that gate open,” said Ulfric, pointing to the barred door at the other side of the room. He stepped through the door the Imperials had come through and went to make sure that none of the enemy remained. 

When he returned, he found the woman trying to bind the cut on her wrist with some cloth torn from the dead Stormcloak’s sash. 

“Here, let me help you.”

She lifted her wrist and he wrapped the cloth quickly around the wound and tied it off. He looked at her as he finished and found her studying his face. 

“Why would the Jarl of Windhelm care whether or not I bled to death?” she asked.

“You are one of us, a child of the Sky. You have proven your worth several times over today.”

“I fought to survive.”

He chuckled. “It is the same thing. Come with me to Windhelm.”

“Why?”

“I can give you a place in my army—and a chance to earn honor and glory driving the Imperials and their Thalmor masters from our land.”

She stared at him and he could see suspicion in her eyes. He was puzzled by it.

At that moment, they could hear shouts and the clash of arms below. Ulfric turned and drew the axe. Taking Reppa by the arm, he dragged her through the gate, which Ralof had opened with the key he’d found on the dead Captain. They ran down the stairs and into the next chamber. 

“Troll’s blood!” cried Ralof. A torture room!”

Two Stormcloaks were fighting the Imperial torturer and his assistant. Bolstered by Ulfric’s group, they made short work of them. Ulfric made no attempt to continue the conversation with her after that. They moved on through the passageways and into a larger chamber. An Imperial Captain was arguing with his men, who wanted to flee. The argument was cut short by their entrance. There was a brief, bloody battle, which left all the Imperials dead and one of the Stormcloaks as well. Reppa acquired a bow and a quiver full of arrows. 

Another passage exited from the chamber on the far side, and Ralof led the way into it, pausing to flip a lever which lowered a bridge across a gap in the stone floor. They could see a cave beyond. Ulfric took her by the arm again and followed him. 

Reppa decided she’d had enough of the Jarl’s possessiveness. While he appeared to be inviting her to come with him to Windhelm, he also appeared to be ensuring she came, whether she wanted to or not, and she most definitely did not. Joining his war—or becoming his whore, which she felt was more likely, was not in her plans. She had to find her brothers. 

She suddenly twisted out of his grasp and ran, past Ralof and into the cave. She heard the thundering sound of collapsing stone behind her and looked back to see that the roof of the cavern had given way over the bridge. Thanking Talos, she took to her heels and disappeared deeper into the cavern.

Ralof turned and looked with horror at the wall of stone debris.

“Jarl Ulfric!”

He could hear the Jarl’s voice faintly on the other side. “Go, Ralof! Catch her and bring her to Windhelm!”

“Yes, My Jarl!” Ralof ran after her, following the sound of her retreat.

On the other side of the fallen stone, Ulfric swore in frustration. His foot kicked something on the floor and he saw a small object slide a few feet. He reached down to pick it up and examine it. Then he slipped it into his pocket.

“Come,” he said to the remaining two soldiers. “Let us hope the dragon has departed and the Imperials have fled by this time.” He led them back up through the keep.

FOR THE REST OF THE STORY, GO TO: https://joyridercom.wordpress.com/


End file.
